


Kisses

by deidreinorbit



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deidreinorbit/pseuds/deidreinorbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris thinks kissing Adam is just experimentation. Adam  wants no part of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: Yeah, I know, you don't have to tell me that I don't own these people. Sigh. This is all made up, just for fun. No disrespect intended  
> Inspired by "Wipe It Away" - Words & music by Kris Allen. Beta-ed by the very generous Finewinebaby, but don't blame her for anything. I take full responsibility for all errors in grammar, spelling and continuity. Oh yeah, I took liberties with dates and stuff.

Kisses

 

Kissing Adam was always a bad idea. It was a mistake the first time Kris’s lips betrayed him, and every single kiss that followed was a lie, a promise that would not be kept. He knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. As if he were rolling down a hill, he couldn’t stop, that is, until Katy suggested firmly that he needed to make a choice, and then there was no way he could go on kissing Adam. Katy was Kris’s wife. There were vows. They had a life together.

 

* * *

“Gonna be in LA tomorrow. Wanna grab a beer?” Just a text, no big deal. Except that it was a big deal. Adam hadn’t seen or spoken to Kris since that day. That day. When Kris threw him off a cliff and left him for dead. No, not literally, but the sensation of falling had been dizzyingly real. There was nothing to grab onto, nothing to hold him up, and when he hit the jagged rocks below, his life shattered into a million broken pieces. Gradually, slowly, Adam had glued the bits back together, moved on, stopped aching, mostly stopped longing for the strength of Kris’s arms around him, the sure press of their bodies, skin to skin, what he had once believed was soul to soul.

“Kinda out of the blue. Its been like a year,” Adam texted back. To himself he muttered, “Eleven months, six days and about 17 hours.” Okay, so maybe he hadn’t moved on completely, maybe there was more than a little longing left.

Kris: “Too long. Friends?”

What does Kris even mean? Like, I don’t want you, but I wanna be your pal? Fuck him. Adam shakes his head no, keys in, “Yes, friends, of course.”

Kris: “5:00?”

Adam: “My house. No paps.” He wondered who had taken over his thumbs. Oh, well, it was done, and maybe, just maybe, this would be a good thing.

* * *

Before the first time.

Adam had it under control. He could have a little crush on Kris without changing anything. They were friends, they were roommates, and Kris was straight. Adam was skilled at compartmentalizing his feelings, so there was no danger of stepping over the line. The crush was strictly a lighthearted, innocent fantasy. As long as they were both fully clothed it was okay to notice Kris’s pretty brown eyes. He could watch that tight little body, the way his skin stretched smooth and taut over the muscles in his arms. It was natural to appreciate sexiness, but Adam had rules about who was allowed into his more intense fantasies. Kris Allen was against the rules.

Then Kris kissed him and Adam discovered it was not under his control. Not at all.

Kris did not discount his good fortune being assigned Adam as his roommate. As different as they appeared to outsiders, he recognized their similarities and was not surprised at how quickly they developed a warm friendship. The strength of their bond was grounded in their common values, their complementary humor, their love of music. Each knew and was comfortable with who he was. Kris was an open minded guy, so it did not alarm him that he was also a little bit attracted to his friend’s strong sexual aura. He was a beautiful man. It didn’t mean anything.

Then Kris kissed Adam and it began to mean something.

 

* * *

The first time.

It was top six (actually seven because of the judges save). The judges were full of praise for both Kris and Adam, song choice, arrangement, delivery. Even Simon. Not everyone had had a successful night, though, so they waited until they reached their room before they let the grins overtake their faces. They hooted, high fived, hugged, swung each other around the room, jumped and danced until, satisfied, they flopped backwards onto Adam’s bed.

“You were awesome tonight.”

“No, you were awesome.”

No, you were.”

“You were.”

Kris rolled onto his side to face Adam, “We kicked ass.”

Adam turned his head toward Kris. “Hope we get enough votes to stay.”

“You have my vote,” and without thought, Kris leaned forward until his lips met the softness of Adam’s lips. He didn’t mean to press into a kiss. It was an accident for his lips to part, to move across Adam’s mouth, take Adam’s bottom lip between his own, tug ever so slightly as he pulled away.

“Oh,” Adam whispered.

“Oh,” came the reply, and with those single syllables of discovery, the truth of their relationship shifted.

There was no conversation, no confessions exchanged or examinations of meaning, not then, and not the next morning when they woke to find their legs entangled, Adam’s morning erection nestled against Kris’s butt, his arm draped over the smaller man. Alarmed, he pulled away when Kris sighed and moved to settle into him. Adam extricated himself as quickly as he could and fled to the bathroom where he could have his freak out in private. In the bed, Kris turned onto his belly, spread his arms and legs toward the four corners of the bed to capture the warmth of the vacated sheet. He inhaled deeply the lingering scent of sex and sweat and Adam’s cologne. Kris was absolutely not freaking out.

They didn’t talk about it, but things changed.

For Adam, a hand on the back or friendly hug were suddenly unsafe, so he took care to touch Kris only when other people were around. In their room he stopped casually sharing the bathroom sink or mirror, and clothing optional, well, it was no longer an option. Formerly inconsequential actions had become too personal, too intimate. An amusing crush had transformed to uncomfortable longing, feelings that refused to be squeezed back into a suitable compartment. Well, even if he couldn’t completely extinguish his feelings, he could keep them to himself. Adam tried very hard to close the doors to his heart.

Kris, on the other hand, did not want to avoid Adam. He was away far from home; he had never been with anyone but Katy. He convinced himself that the unreal world of American Idol was the perfect place to experiment. And there was Adam, beautiful and alluring, right there in his room. It was fate. Kris reassured himself that it was okay, that whatever happened would run its course before it was time to return home. He tried to create situations where there might be another kiss, or more, but Adam avoided his machinations. It was weeks, months actually, before Kris managed it, and by the time he did, simple attraction had evolved into much more.

 

* * *

The second kiss was a dare.

The Top Ten tour was under way. It was a hotel night, and several of the troupe were gathered in Matt’s and Anoop’s room. They were fairly deep into the tequila and Truth or Dare had them cringing or guffawing as they took their turns as victim or torturer.

“Okay, Kris, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Allison’s truth demands were getting a little too personal. Where was her chaperon when you needed her?

Allison looked around the room, thinking, until her eyes fell on Kris’s roommate. “Kiss Adam!” she crowed. “With tongue!”

“Oh, big deal,” he retorted. He walked over to where Adam was sprawled in a chair and, planting a hand on either arm, leaned into fulfill his mission. Maybe he missed the alarm in the other man’s eyes, but he definitely felt him tense when Kris’s mouth landed carelessly on its target. Clenched teeth blocked full entry, and the intruding tongue was forced to settle for a swipe along the seam of Adam’s lips. It was good enough for the game, but Kris was disappointed.

“Thanks for the passion, man,” Kris complained as he pulled away.

“It wasn’t my dare,” Adam laughed, a little weakly.

Allison was delighted. Anoop called for more tequila. Danny squirmed. Matt laughed because he liked seeing Danny made uncomfortable. Adam waited a few minutes, then excused himself, claiming exhaustion, but in truth he was angry. How could Kris not see what he was doing?

When Adam left the room Kris realized that he might have misjudged how far he could push. Apparently, knowing what he wanted for himself was not enough. What did Adam want? Maybe they should actually talk about it.

“Hand me that bottle.” He wasn’t much of a drinker, but tonight alcohol seemed like a reasonable next step.

 

* * *

The third time.

The room was dark except for a soft glow from the bathroom night light when a slightly drunker Kris entered an hour later, hoping for a heart to to heart. He could make out Adam’s form in his bed, blanket hauled up over his shoulder, his back to the room.

“You awake?”

The response was a muffled grunt.

“You’re in bed early.”

Another grunt.

“You okay?” Kris sat on the edge of the bed and touched his friend’s shoulder.

Adam winced, “Don’t,” and he shrugged Kris’s hand off.

“Adam?”

“What?” Adam demanded. He wished Kris would get off his bed.

“Talk to me,” he coaxed. Reaching out again, his fingers encircled Adam’s upper arm through the blanket. “Please.”

“Get off me,” came the hissed reply. “This is not working. You can’t go around kissing me, not even as a joke. I know we are just friends, and I want us to be friends, but I have feelings, and you are unfairly adorable, and I can’t have you, not in that way, I know that, but, fuck, you don’t have to throw it in my face. For such a sensitive guy, you are pretty fucking insensitive. Now get off my bed and leave me alone.”

And that is exactly what Kris did not do. Heartened rather than discouraged by Adam’s words, and with a bit of tequila courage, he crawled up on Adam and forced him to roll over. Supporting himself on one hand beside Adam’s head, he placed his other palm on Adam’s face. He leaned in until he was so close their lips brushed when he spoke, “What if you could have me?” Not even sure what he was suggesting, Kris added, “Don’t you want to?”

“No, I don’t, Kris,” he lied desperately. “What’s the matter with you?” Adam pressed a hand against the chest hovering above him, pushed to gain some distance from the temptation staring at him.

“Thought you liked me,” cajoled Kris. “You just said you think I’m adorable.” Kris slipped past Adam’s outstretched palm and insinuated his length along the curves and planes of the body beneath him. He touched Adam’s hip, stroked suggestively inward, felt an unmistakable response.

“You’re drunk,” Adam protested, but his words were half hearted against the heated weight pressing him into the mattress. His body was not listening.

“Not that drunk.”

The words were lost as Adam’s resolve gave way, and the third time was mutual and definite and hungry and led to the hundreds of unnumbered kisses that followed.

For seven weeks the two men spent as much time together as they could, stealing passionate kisses in hallways and on the bus, making love whenever they could find enough privacy, settling for quick hand jobs when they couldn’t. The rest of the troupe and the crew, except Allison, pretended not to notice, denied it if asked. Teenage Allison teased them mercilessly. She was captivated by the romance of forbidden love, but she, too, carefully kept their secret from outsiders. Amazingly, despite rampant fan fueled rumors about their relationship, not one shred of tangible evidence made its way out of the cocoon of the tour family. Fans read their body language and the way they looked at one another, but the men consistently disclaimed involvement. Most people accepted the assertions that they were just friends.

 

* * *  
The last time.

It was five months, five American Idol episodes, three weeks of rehearsals, and fifty-two concerts after the first.

It was the night of the final show of the Idol tour, after the applause had died out. Kris was looking a little bit silly and a lot sexy in Adam’s too-big tour jacket, and Adam couldn’t resist pushing him up against the wall backstage. He wormed his hands inside the leather jacket and around to grip the swell of Kris’s ass. Pulling him in until their hardening cocks touched, Adam ground into him while his lips sought the warm moisture of Kris’s mouth. Katy found them like that. She wasn’t really surprised, but that didn’t mean she was willing to let it continue.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but the party has just ended. Adam, you can let go of my husband. As for you, Kris,” Katy declared, “you need to make a choice.”

You already know that Kris chose Katy. When he tried to explain to his lover that it was inevitable, Adam put his fist through the wall, wishing that he were a more violent person because, honestly, the drywall didn’t even begin to satisfy his wish for Kris to feel as sucker punched as he did.

“You fucking knew all along?”

“I’m married. I love my wife. You knew that.”

“What I knew is what you told me: ‘I want you. I would never hurt you. Come on, baby, you know I love you. Let’s stay like this forever. You can have me.’ Fucking liar.”

“I never lied to you. I do love you, Adam.”

“Don’t split hairs with me, Kris. You weren’t honest. You intended all along...”

“I didn’t lie! I did, I mean, I do want to be with you. I hoped that somehow it would aIl work out. It’s just...”

“You fucking used me. What the fuck did you think you were doing? I’m a human being. I love you. I deserve better.”

The recriminations and excuses flew back and forth. Kris cried for himself, for what he had done to Adam, for what he was giving up. He begged to make amends. Adam sobbed and yelled, and in the end, his pride broken, he pleaded with Kris not to leave him.

That was eleven months, six days and seventeen hours ago. Make that eleven months and seven days, because now it is the day when they have determined to face one another, to make their way back to the way it was before all that kissing started.

 

* * *

After the last time.

He and Katy, they were doing okay. It was actually Katy who encouraged Kris to repair the rift. She was impatient with his guilt over something that she had long since forgiven.

“You’ve made it up to me. You need to do the same with Adam,” she urged. “I’m tired of you going into a mood every time someone mentions his name.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Come on, Kris. The last time he turned up on something we were watching, you were bitchy for a week after.”

“That’s not possible,” Kris countered. “Is it?”

“You may be oblivious, but it’s true. I feel like I need to screen the listings before I turn on the TV. I don’t buy magazines that have Adam articles. I cringe whenever his songs come on the radio. It’s like walking on eggshells.”

Kris pondered for a moment. He couldn’t deny that being reminded of Adam still hurt.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Call him.”

 

* * *

Kris headed toward city, winding out of the canyon and onto the interstate. He was glad Katy had pushed him to call Adam. They were friends before they had veered off into something else. He hoped they could go back to before. That thing that had happened - it was just an accident of place and time. Kris didn’t seriously have those kinds of feelings for Adam, right? He had just been caught up.

The electric gate slid closed behind him and he drove up the wide curve of the sloping driveway. His car was in sight of the house when the front door opened and Adam stepped out onto the porch, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the late afternoon sun. He was barefoot, in casually slouching jeans and an untucked white shirt that gleamed in the reflected daylight. Kris didn’t expect the catch in his breath, but that was okay; everyone reacted to Adam’s beauty. It was the lurch in his stomach that hinted at trouble. What happened next was wrong on so many levels that Kris couldn’t even begin to decipher it.

It was right that both their faces broke into welcoming smiles.

It was right that their arms reached out and they embraced with the enthusiasm of reuniting friends.

And it was right that they were about to put the hurt behind them and set their relationship back on its clear path.

Except that the path was not so clear. Their friendly cheek kisses slid sideways, and there they were again, Kris’s lips betraying him and Adam falling helplessly.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, Adam.” Kris’s remorse was palpable. “I... I’m so sorry.”

Stunned, trembling, Adam reached for the door frame to hold himself up. “What the fuck, Kris. I thought...,” was all Adam could manage before his voice broke.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear,” Kris exclaimed. “I didn’t know. I thought...”

“You thought?”

“I thought we would be okay.”

“You fucking thought?”

“I guess it’s too soon.”

Adam swiped at angry tears.

“I’ll leave. I should go.”

Adam managed a curt nod.

Dejected, embarrassed, Kris turned and took a step toward his car, twisted back toward Adam’s slumping frame. “Can we pretend this never happened? Can we just wipe it away and start over?”

Adam gazed at him with disbelief. “What planet do you live on?”

He was reeling from the power of Kris’s presence. He wanted more than anything to pull him back into his arms, but that wasn’t going to happen, and he was discovering that his heart could not accept less. It was with some relief that he watched the car disappear down the hill.

 

* * *

Kris stopped half way down the driveway and cut the engine. What just happened? Worse, what next? He sat for a long time with his forehead on the steering wheel. Eventually he pulled out his phone and called his wife.

“Katy, I...,” his voice trailed off.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in his driveway.”

“Kris?”

“Mmm?”

“Baby, honey, in all these months, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know,” but Katy had known.

“What do you want to do?”

There was no reply. They sat like that for a time, Katy listening to Kris breathe. Eventually, she broke the silence. “Kris? Listen to me; no matter what happens, you have to believe that I will always be here for you. I will always love you.” Katy’s words broke him, and the tears welling in his eyes spilled over. Still, he had no answer.

Minutes passed. At last Kris took a shaky breath, “I need...”

“Go to him,” Katy whispered.

“What about...?

“We’ll work it out.”

 

* * *

The car stayed where it sat. Kris walked back up the driveway, at the last stepping off into the grass where his steps made no sound as he approached Adam’s house for the second time that day.

Adam was sitting on the step, his head in his hands. He felt Kris’s shadow fall across him. A hand touched his hand. Kris sank to his knees and laid his cheek on Adam’s knees.

“I came back to answer your question. Your planet, I want to live on your planet.”

Adam tipped Kris’s face and searched the brown pools of his eyes. He felt the surrender in Kris’s weight when he pulled him up from his knees and onto the step next to him.

“Are you sure?”

“I love you so much.” Kris buried his face against Adam’s shoulder, spoke into his shirt as if he could press the words through it and impress them onto the skin beneath. “I am. I am very sure.”

“What about...?”

“We’ll work it out.” He was sure about that, too.

The two figures appeared as a single dark silhouette as the sun sank. They leaned into one another, at ease finally that they were on the same page, in the right place. They sat there until the evening grew chilly and Kris gave in to a shiver. Adam stood and pulled Kris to his feet.

“Let’s go inside.”

It was not any kind of mistake then when Adam kissed Kris. Kissing Kris was a very good idea.

End


End file.
